Making Room
by Stargate-Lover-Steph
Summary: A fic written after I received a picture sent to me by Joodiff, leading to a prompt about Frankie finding a old picture of Boyd with shoulder length wavy hair and a leather jacket on.


"Frankie, how much more stuff have you got?" Boyd asked as he stood in his hallway with two boxes in his arms.

"Not much more, a few bits of furniture and some boxes. Why?" Frankie standing with a open box in the kitchen doorway.

"How much shite can a tiny flat hold for fuck sake, Frankie. This is a house, not a fucking mansion. Where the hell do plan on putting this stuff?" Carrying the boxes he had into the living room.

When he came back out Frankie had already put her box down and was stood outside climbing into the back of the van she had hired to move all her stuff. He knew he was going to regret this but he did it anyway. He trudged outside and stopped at the back of the van, looking inside to see exactly what was left to bring in.

"Frankie, you're taking the piss. Where the hell are you going to fit a desk? This stuff can't fit in my house Frankie." Boyd complianing as he watched Frankie in the back of the van.

"I would store it in the garage but somebody has a car in there that hasn't seen the light of day since I was in high school. I might manage to squeeze some stuff in there until we have a sort out." Boyd taking no notice of Frankie as he looked at the closed garage door.

"Put the boxes in the house, I'll see what space I can clear in the garage." Leaving Frankie in the back of the van and heading past the silver Audi parked on his drive.

He opened the garage door and stepped inside, flicking the light on so he could see better. The dark green sports car did look worse for wear, his moment of maddened, or his mid life crisis as Jen had called sat covered in a thick layer of dust. Boyd managed to shift a few paint tins, some old bits of wood and other useless junk to make room for the furniture that was not going to fit anywhere in the house until they had a sort out. He walked back to the van and found the only items left were a desk, a wardrobe and a chest of drawers. He stood and waited for Frankie, looking at the desk she had brought over. It should go in the study, that's where his was, but his study wasn't big enough. Or more to the point it was full of useless crap so nothing else would fit in. Frankie came out a few minutes later, climbing into the back of the van and getting the furniture all onto the tailgate.

"Wardrobe first, then drawers, then desk." Seeing Frankie look past were Boyd was stood and into the garage.

"Okay." Frankie tilting the wardrobe so he could help her carry it.

Twenty minutes later and the van was empty, everything now stored or dumped somewhere in Boyds house. Both Frankie and Boyd were slumped in a heap on the settee, a can of larger in Boyds hand and some fruity non alcoholic drink in a glass in Frankies hand.

"I'll have this drink and make a start on the boxes. When can we sort out the study? Just I have some reports that need reading and a paper that needs writing for next week when I give my lecture." Hearing Boyd groan beside her.

"You clear the bedroom and bathroom and I'll start on in the study. After another one of these of course." Putting his empty can on the table and picking another one up.

Frankie finished her wine and went to stand up, feeling Boyd hang on to her hand.

"If you want to sleep in your own bed tonight you need to let me get up." Leaning towards him so she could kiss him.

"Fine. But only because this is too small for both of us to sleep on." Kissing Frankie as he patted the settee.

Frankie managed to pull away, Boyd whining at the loss of contact. She left him on the settee drinking his larger, she had boxes to sort out. Just under and hour later and all her clothes had been put away, toiletries were in the bathroom cupboard and towels were in the airing cupboard. Walking into the study she heard Boyd swear loudly as he kicked something, the thud echoing around the room

"Why does this look worse than before, Boyd?" Frankie surveying what was once Boyds study.

"If we move my desk that way, yours can fit there as the sockets are just there." Boyd looking at Frankie for approval.

"Come on then, I don't want to still be writing or reading gone midnight." Moving to the other end of Boyds desk to help lift it.

Between them they got the desk moved, Boyd swearing again as he finally got it where he wanted it.

"Let's get mine out the garage and then you can leave me to it if you want. It's not fair expecting you to help me sort everything out." Seeing Boyd straightening out the stuff on his desk.

Boyd didn't answer, just moved past her and headed down the stairs. Frankie followed him, watching as he stood in the garage and waited for her. Lots of swearing, shouting and temper tantrums later they managed to get Frankies desk up the stairs, around past the banister, and into the study.

"You want a coffee?" Boyd asked Frankie as she slid her chair into its slot under her desk.

"Yes, please." Placing her laptop and a few files on the desk.

When Boyd came back Frankies desk looked neatly set out, her laptop, speaker, scanner, desk lamp and printer all plugged in and ready to use. He didn't put her coffee on her desk but on his, sitting down to watch her shift books around on the shelves so she could fit some of her books on them. Frankie picked up a few books and went to stand them up so she could make room when a handful of pictures fell from in between them. She placed the books down and bent over to pick the pictures up. They weren't hers so that meant they were Boyds, and going by the fact they were black and white they were old pictures.

"What you got there?" Boyd asked as he spied Frankie pick the photos up from the floor.

"My god, talk about relics from the past. I knew you had long hair and curtains when we met but wow, did they not have barbers back in the day." Frankie holding up a black and white picture for Boyd to see.

"Fuck off, Frankie. Let me see that." Boyd putting his glasses on as Frankie walked towards him holding out the picture.

Boyd took the picture from Frankie and looked at it. Shoulder length wavy hair, curtains and a leather jacket.

"Christ, there's a blast from the past." Laughing as he held the photograph.

"So, how old were you then?" Frankie walking around the desk to stand behind him so they could both see the picture.

"I'd say thirty five maybe, give or take a year. I loved that jacket, until I got it snagged on a fence chasing down a suspect." Taking his glasses off and hold the picture up for Frankie to take.

"The met had low standard for haircuts back then. But I have to admit, that's one sexy look your sporting there." Putting the picture on his desk so she could run her fingers through his now silvery grey hair.

Boyd closed his eyes when he felt Frankies nails graze his scalp, not enough to mark but enough so he felt it. She continued to massage his scalp, moving down to his neck and shoulders. Boyd groaned when she worked out a knot in his shoulder, opening his eyes and turning his head so he could look up at her.

"Thanks for helping me today," Frankie whispered as she dipped her head and kissed him.

"Couldn't really say no could I, you're moving into my bloody house." His hand moving up and behind her head, so he could hold her in place as he returned the kiss.

"Fairpoint." Swiping her tongue around his mouth as he gripped her hair a little tighter.

"We really should stop before we get carried away." Frankie going to move away but Boyd's hand on her head stopping her.

"We should, but that's no fun." Boyd's tongue moving around doing the exploring of Frankie's mouth this time. "We could make sure your desk sturdy after moving it around." A wicked glint in Boyd's eye as Frankie moaned.

Frankie never did get her reports read or her lecture written, her laptop getting moved so she could test out the new placement of her desk, with Boyd's help of course.


End file.
